


Maybe This Time

by BlankSkies



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patty is a bamf and I’m correct, Pennywise (IT) Exists, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, The Losers Club are hunters, but he is a demon, eventual E rating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlankSkies/pseuds/BlankSkies
Summary: Eddie thought that he had escaped the life when he hopped on that greyhound bus seven years ago and never looked back. Fresh off a hunt that had come too close to going completely wrong, he told himself he was doing the right thing. Eddie was too weak, he wasn’t skilled in hunting, and he knew that it would get the losers killed. Get Richie killed. Hell, it almost did. So he jumped at the chance to get out and live a normal life, and he had no complaints in Stan joining him either. They graduated college from NYU, got cushy office jobs, moved into a nice average apartment, and left all of the supernatural in the past. Everything was a bit boring in retrospect, but Eddie was okay with boring because he was good at it.Then his girlfriend tried to eat him, and he was suddenly reunited with faces from his past that he never thought he would see again. So maybe Eddie wasn’t as good at boring as he thought.~Or- a Supernatural AU in which the Losers become hunters after their fight with Pennywise, but a year on the road is too much for Eddie and Stan and they leave after a hunt goes wrong. 7 years later they realize the hunt will always find them.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Kudos: 32





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this is basically kind of a Supernatural AU because I have a bit of knowledge on the supernatural elements of that world and I like the terminology. There might be some similar ideas in plot, but this is not based on the show or the events in it. I have this mapped out and I know where I want to take it, so I hope you enjoy!

“Eddie, come on grab the fu-fucking knife! Help me, man!” 

Eddie stood completely still, caught in a shock of fear. He knew Bill was yelling at him, but all he could focus on was Richie thrashing under the beast they had come to know as a werewolf. Could feel the pain shooting through his ankle up his leg, and the moist touch of blood cooling against his pant leg. He couldn’t move. Realistically, he knew his leg wasn’t completely out of order from the nasty fall from earlier, he was still capable of movement. But his mind just wouldn’t listen, he couldn’t put his thoughts through to physical action, he was left frozen. Shit, the first werewolf had thrown him aside like he was nothing.  _ Nothing.  _ What was he supposed to do here? It just came out of nowhere and-

He was a coward. A weak coward.  _ Fragile _ , a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

He couldn’t save him, and he was left to witness the gruesome and untimely end of his best friend. Seconds ticked by, the struggle very real and present as both Richie and Bill fought for control, but two men were no match for a werewolf. It had taken the seven of them to take down the first, and what they believed to be only, werewolf. Fuck, this was the strongest creature they had taken on yet, and they were outsmarted. It was getting really close now, the gnashing teeth of the monster a few inches away from his best friends throat, just one more lunge and-

The sudden arrival of Ben barreling into the clearing that the three had been ambushed in startled the creature just enough to give Richie a chance to move from the direct line of terror. Ben wasted no time, assessing the scene before him and moving into action in the same second, no hesitation. Taking the silver blade that lay abandoned near the scuffle, he violently stabbed and sliced his way to the werewolf’s heart with the help of Bill grappling it down to the best of his ability. After what seemed like ages to Eddie’s catatonic state, and what he estimated to be the equivalent of a bucket of blood and gore spilling out onto the forest floor and his friends, the chaos settled. Ben and Bill kicked away the now unmoving mangled heap to the side.

Eddie’s vision was starting to darken in the corners, but it wasn’t until he visibly saw that Richie was okay, albeit a little shaken, that the icy grip on his body relented and he slouched forward into heaving breaths. He didn’t even notice he had stopped breathing until his body was wracked with an insistent need to gulp at the air. Getting a bit of a better grip on himself, he realized the sounds flooding his ears weren’t just his heart pumping frantically and the blood rushing through his veins.

“Are you kid-kidding? Wha-what the fuck was that! Did you want him to d-d-die?” Bill was creeping closer, eyes locked on the boy cowering just a few feet away. Coming to enough to realize that he was being addressed, he chanced a glance up. They had an audience now, the rest of the losers filling the clearing, breathing heavily as if they had just ran here, and they probably had. After hearing the screams of your friends and the unmistakable growls of a predator attacking, they were quick to book it over here as fast as they could. Looking at them he saw their faces go through different emotions, mostly landing between outright terrified and aggressive. Faces red, pupils dilated, they were ready to fight for their lives and the lives of others. Stan looked a little nauseous, and largely terrified, eyes darting around the scene. They were scared too, of course they were, but they didn’t hesitate to jump into danger for a friend. For family.

“Hey Bill, c’mon calm down, what the hell happened?” Beverly demanded from her position on the ground next to a shaken Richie, hand on his back soothing him. Bill didn’t relent in his gaze, and suddenly, various pairs of eyes were trained on Eddie, in want of an explanation.

“I-I…” Words just wouldn’t come. The shocks of the stone cold frozen state he was in were slowly wearing off, leaving behind blooming stabs of guilt, and overwhelming shame. And fear, always fear. Eddie's eyes found Richie once again, and his mouth shut despite himself. Richie was still getting a grip on himself, laid on the ground trying to work through the rush of adrenaline while also realizing he was still alive. Oh thank god, he was still alive. 

“It came out of n-nowhere! We were just doing the recon we discussed wh-when we were last together, after we-we killed the werewolf. But th-there was another one, took us by complete surprise and ju-umped Rich. I was trying to hold it back, and I needed Ed-Eddie to grab me the knife but he just fucking st-stood there!” Bill's stutter was getting worse as he got more worked up over the situation, frustrated hands finding and pulling at his own hair. His demeanor was justified, his body still hyped up on the need to protect. “What was that, Eddie? He could have  _ died _ .” Eyes turned back to Eddie after Bill’s sudden softly asked question, and Eddie shrunk even more into himself.

“I’m sorry Bill, I was just scared.” Eddie wished he could say more, try to explain himself, but he couldn’t and he hated himself for it. He tried to keep his voice from wobbling when he said what he could, but he figured he had failed when he heard Bev quietly tell Richie, “No sit back down, Rich.” Eddie chances a look to see Richie  _ smiling  _ of all things up at him.

“Heya guys, it’s no sweat. I’m okay, Bill’s okay, Eddie’s mom is  _ more _ than okay, if my last visit was anything to go by-“ Richie stops himself and the losers let out an unbelieved scoff at his terrible timing. That was Richie though, he would do anything to avoid a conflict. His smirk melted into a sincere little smile when Eddie just stared, still too terrified to speak. Fucking get it together, Kaspbrak!. “It’s okay Eds, I’m alright. Everyone gets scared now and then.”

And that hurt Eddie more than he would like to admit. Because despite everything that just happened, Richie still trusted him. More than okay to just write it off as a fluke and, ‘get on back to business’, as he would say in one of his  _ ridiculous  _ accents. 

Following Richie in his change of pace, everyone just collectively decided to let it go, just like that, Richie’s usual tension-crushing, comical personality quickly putting everyone back in ease. They would most likely speak about it at another time, at least Bill will based on the look of frustration still displayed on his face, but everyone was too tired and they just wanted to go back to the hotel and rest. Stan still seemed a bit shaken up, but in the 6 years they have been doing this hunting thing, Stan never seemed to get used to the hunt. The group broke off and started heading to where they had parked the cars. It was maybe a 15 minute walk from where they were, and Mike took note of their current location in case they decided they needed to come back for a clean up.

As they headed back, eager to shower and pass out at the most recent motel in the most recent town of their most recent case, the losers eased up and began to leave the moment in the past for the time being.They didn’t acknowledge that Stan was guiding them back, or that Eddie remained silent, falling to the back of the group. He quickly grew lost in thought, blindly following the person in front of him as his head processed what had just happened. He finally got his breath under control but the fear and self-hatred were just beginning to stir. Time was quickly lost on him for a while after that during the walk, ignoring the worried and concerned glances thrown back at him.

He tuned back in unwillingly when he recognized voices raising in volume. For a moment he was almost struck with that same terror again but he realized that there were some laughs exchanged and the tone was playful.

“Shit, let me just check real quick,” Stan responded to something Richie said, then promptly shoved his hand into his pants. Eddie didn’t hear what was said before, but he resigned to still let a faint smile stretch his mouth, no doubt knowing where it was going. When Stan pulled his hand back out, his fist formed a middle finger, directed unsurprisingly at a cackling Richie Tozier. 

“Nope, my dick has not lost it’s length dipshit. I would ask if your dick lost some length, but you can’t lose what you don’t have.” The other losers struggled to hold in their own laughter, even their fearless leader letting loose a little at Richie’s antics.

“That may be true Staniel, but alas, I shall argue if the lost thing can be found, it has been there all along, and you will surely find all 8 inches later tonight buried in your mother!” The British Guy sets off the remaining few who had managed to contain themselves so far. Eddie just enjoys watching his friends light up with glee, but his mood is still considerably down, and of course Richie takes notice. He always does when it comes to Eddie, and his heart never fails to flutter when he’s noticed by Richie, before he forcibly shoves it down.

“Ain’t that right, Ed’s? Don’t worry though, Sonia is my number one, the other 7 inches are left for her buried treasure to discover!” Always unable to resist, Eddie takes the bait and speeds up his pace a little bit, closing the distance between them a little. This is something he knows, this playful banter he can do.

“That doesn’t even make any fucking sense! First of all, are you implying that Stan will be searching his own mother for your dick later, what the fuck!” That gets a few “gross!” remarks and a gag from Stan himself. “And what, you have a detachable 15 inch strap-on? That you leave with your different conquests? You would think that after achieving the mature age of 18 you would grow up a little, but here you are still a child and you're one year late to that party. Maybe you are packing something down there because it’s certainly not that head up here you are thinking with, dumbass.” Eddie gestures at Richie's head, the group busting out in laughs once again.

“Oh I’m always thinking about head, Spaghetti.” Richie is now walking backwards, facing Eddie and absolutely  _ beaming _ from the interaction. He does a suggestive move with his hips as he speaks, and soon falls back on his ass due to not facing the right way at all. Mike and Ben help up a whining Richie after every other loser refuses to help the lanky boy up. 

Time passed much faster during the second half of the trek back, and after a few more laughs and shenanigans, they found themselves where they parked their cars. Scrappy things they are, but Eddie had tried his best to fix them up after buying them from two brothers who owned a business in Derry dealing with cars. He definitely was no expert but he had learned a bit through books, and he had some help from Mike, and while still pieces of shit they were in a somewhat better shape than when they got them. The cars were cheap and the losers could afford them, that’s all that mattered to them at the time, to Eddie’s chagrin. He wanted to argue and convince them to do something, anything, to make the two pieces of junk safer for long distance traveling, but they all, including Eddie, were eager to leave Derry as soon as possible after graduation.

Eddie put a lot of effort on these cars, simple 4 doors with minimal seating and space, but the fact that everyone could have a seat with a seatbelt was enough for Eddie at the time. Despite the work he put into it, they still had issues with them, Daisy the blue one still liked to stop running at random times, and Peach the silver car still squeaked and lurched while in motion. 

Eddie sighed as he hopped in the driver's seat of Daisy. He couldn’t do anything right.

~

Eddie regrets the way it happened. 

He doesn’t regret leaving, or at least that’s what he tells himself, but he thinks his departure could have gone better.

After arriving at the motel, everyone broke off in their room groups. Eddie, Richie, Stanley in one group, Mike, Ben, and Bill in another, and finally Bev by herself. They could only afford the three rooms with the money they stole, hustled, or earned by doing various small jobs around the towns they visited. Another thing Eddie wasn’t good at, but he was the last to complain about the room situation. Eddie, Stan, and Richie always drew straws to see who would have to share and who got the single. Secretly, he always hoped Stan would draw the single so he could share with Richie, even though he always made sure to complain when it happened. This time it just so happened Eddie had got the single, and he still couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

Once they got to the room, he got the shower first, as they rotated on this luxury. Richie would go after him, and Stan would use Beverly’s after she finished. He wasted no time in walking past the other two boys to jump into the dingy motel shower.

Eddie’s mind was plagued by the events of the night, and if there were tears mixed with the shower water on the moldy and crusty tile floor, he didn’t acknowledge it. Richie almost died. And Eddie would have let it happen. They were talking and joking like normal, Richie picking on Eddie, Eddie blushing and picking on Richie right back. Eddie was still reeling from the high of Richie’s care and attention after his run-in with the first wolf, limping by his side but stars still in his eyes.

It was so sudden. When they researched the case and the incidents surrounding it, they were sure it was a single werewolf at first, they didn’t even consider that idea of a second. But suddenly it jumped out in front of them, halting them in their place, another werewolf, eyes locked directly onto Richie. It all happened so fast, Richie only had enough time to shove Eddie away, and the thing was on him. A life without Richie flashed before his eyes and he was shocked still at the grief of it all before Richie was even taken from him. He couldn’t move, he was completely helpless to himself and the boy in front of him. Bill jumped in immediately while Richie did what he could to fight the monster off himself. Then Ben rushed in, Beverly, Mike, even Stan. And Eddie was just frozen. Useless. And despite it all, his friends still counted on him, will continue to do so no matter what, and that was dangerous. They believed in Eddie that it wouldn’t happen again, they all did, but Eddie just didn’t. 

He closed his hand over his mouth to contain a sob when he realized what he had to do. There was only one way to make certain it wouldn’t happen. Richie would have been better off if it was Ben in his place, so that’s what had to happen. He had to leave his spot to someone else, they needed to create stronger groups and that meant Eddie couldn’t be a part of it. He wasn’t strong enough for this team, not anymore. Not since they started taking on more difficult cases, hell maybe he never was and the other times before were just happy accidents.

He hated this life, he hated what Pennywise did to them as kids, introducing them to the world of demons, and other monsters. He hated the crappy cars, and motel rooms, and the shit fast food. He wasn’t made for this life, but he persevered for the losers, his family. What if staying meant putting them in danger? He couldn’t convince them to leave hunting, no way. They were set on vengeance, and even if they weren’t, Bill was. He would always fight for Georgie, and the losers would follow him no matter what. Eddie couldn’t put them in danger any longer, he had to leave. Soon. Tonight probably. Shit, but he’d be leaving all his friends, he’d be leaving-

“Uh, Ed’s? I see you’re taking your sweet time in there, but I really would like to have a turn, this century maybe, werewolf Gak and all. If you’re jerking off, Stan left to take a shower a bit ago, so we can do the ole’switcheroo and you can finish in the privacy of this here motel room if you want.”

Richie.

He’d be leaving Richie.

“No, I’m done just wanted to make sure I really was clean after that fall.” It took everything to keep his voice steady, and it seemed the shitty motel was good for something in its walls because Richie didn’t bat an eye.

“Oh shit, that’s right! Everything okay?” Richie’s voice full of concern, god what was Eddie doing?

“Yeah, everything is ok, I’m coming out.” Wrapping a towel around himself, he moved to the door and unlocked it, revealing the tall lanky boy with wild dark curls and eyes magnified with crooked lenses. He isn’t even going to mention it, how Eddie had almost let him die. How his cowardice almost cost him  _ everything _ .

“You sure everything is good?” Eddie could only nod at him, moving to exit the bathroom.. “Alright, but I’ll only let you through if you promise. Promise you’re okay and if you’re not you’ll tell me?” 

“Rich-“ Eddie tried to side step around the taller boy, but was quickly thwarted, a raised pinky thrusted in his face.

“Promise?” Eddie stopped.

“Promise.” And linked their pinkies, and shook.

“Alrighty, that’s good enough for me, Spaghetti. Why don’t you pick out a movie to watch later, perhaps a ‘Spaghetti Western’?” Richie cackled as he made his way into the bathroom.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said softly, but he could tell the other boy heard him when another laugh and a mumbled, “Oh Ed’s” made its way through the bathroom door as it closed.

It was really going to suck breaking that promise.

But he had to. He just had to.

Eddie frantically grabbed his things and stuffed what little he had into his worn duffle bag. It was the same bag the others had, stolen from an unsuspecting soccer team somewhere in Ohio, the school logo faded but still on the side of the bag.

When he was finished gathering his measly belongings, he mentally prepared himself to walk out of that door and go to , well he doesn’t know yet but he has limited time so he will figure it out after he’s already gone. First, he has to actually leave though, so he gathers what he can of his wits and faces the door. A figure stands in the open doorway, gaze directed at the duffle in his hands..

“Stan, I can explain-“ Eddie holds up a hand at the wide eyed boy's face. 

“You’re leaving.” He moves his hand to his lips in a silencing motion, telling Stan to ‘shh’, not wanting Richie to over hear anything. Oh god he is gonna hate him so much, he only hopes one day he can understand. Pulled back to the present, Stan clearly waiting on an explanation, he is unable to form the words. Eddie just straightens up and nods. He watches as the emotions on Stans face shift from betrayal, (ouch), to mild anger, then understanding. Finally it settles on something almost like, acceptance? What?

“Alright.” Then he just grabs his own things, putting them in his own bag before finishing and looking up at Eddie as if to say, ‘Well? What now?’. The smaller boy is still unable to form words, and does another gesture of his own as if to say, ‘Um, what the fuck?’

“Look, I get it. I understand. We weren’t made for this, I don’t wanna be here anymore, and I’m tired of fighting. And we both know we can’t convince them to stop, and if we stay we will always want to jump in with them. And that could get us- could get  _ them  _ killed. So I understand.”

Stan's voice loses some of its stability towards and end and all the fight leaves Eddie. Of course, Stan was never ready for this, he was a loyal friend and it had gotten him here. So far into this shit that he never wanted for himself. Eddie gains a newfound respect for Stan in that moment, even as he stands in the dim lighting of the motel looking smaller than he ever has before. He understands.

A noise from the bathroom reminds Eddie that they are kinda on a time limit here, and they need to make a decision. Now. No time for goodbyes or even a note.

Fuck.

“Okay.”

And they left. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter One: Honey, what's for dinner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the first chapter less than 24 hours after writing and uploading the prologue! Whoops! Anyways, enjoy, comment, and leave kudos, it encourages me and who knows maybe I will spit out 70k in a single week.

_ Beep beep beep _ .

God this fucking printer.

_ Bewoo bewoo _ .

Are you serious? What warning could that possibly signify?

_ Eeer eeer krch.  _ **_Krchchch_ ** .

  
  


What?

  
  


Cursing out a printer as it sputters out of order in the middle of a professional workplace isn’t the most elegant thing to do in this situation, but it is what it is.

  
  


“Kaspbrak! Having trouble, guy?” Eddie resists the urge to flinch at the sudden voice that breaks the whispered curses that previously filled the quiet. He closes his eyes with a silent sigh, recognizing the man who was now in close proximity as his boss. He takes a second to prepare himself mentally for whatever interaction this fuckwit was about to engage him in. Sorry, whatever his boss needs, he will be sure to do for him, is what he means.

“Yeah Mr. H, I’m not sure what I am doing wrong here. Printer is just acting up.” He tries not to visibly grimace when a hand comes down to grip his shoulder. “It doesn’t look like it will be of any use any time soon.” The two men glance down at the printer, the older man letting out a low descending whistle when it doesn’t react to his prodding at the buttons. Eddie holds himself back from commenting when the man removes his hand from a bag of chips to do it, leaving behind a dusty orange residue.

“Well son, if it’s broke, we can replace it, no worries.” Son? Eddie is only a few years younger than this office hotshot 30 year old, he can’t stand it when the dude calls him son. Well he can’t stand him in general, but his employment relies on his ability to play nice, or as Stan so elegantly puts it, ‘Kiss his balls.’

“That’s true, but-“ before he can explain that these copies are actually time sensitive and he would really like to be clocking out at 5:00pm today which gives him 20 minutes to supposedly replace a printer, he’s interrupted by a sleazy chuckle with a matching mouth-full-of-food sound effect.

“Heh, if only I could do the same for my wife, am I right?” Mr. H holds up the hand not currently shoved deep as shit into the ass of a Doritos bag for a high five, and Eddie internally squirms as he obliges. What he wants to say is, ‘You actually have, you’re on your 3rd wife since I started here 4 years ago, and based on the amount of snacking you’ve been doing lately, you’ll be onto your 4th soon!’

“Yeah, that’s right Mr. H.” Is what he actually says. Damn this economy.

“Please! Call me Pat, I’ve told you this before. Anyway I gotta run something by you, are you free right now?” Mr. H,  _ Pat _ , gestures at his office in a questioning motion as if this wasn’t actually a direct order. Damn, Eddie sighs once again and places what work he could get done on the table by the printer. He will have to come in early tomorrow morning to finish it up on time, what a shame.

“Yes, I am free.” His boss claps once before heading straight into his office, correctly assuming Eddie will follow right behind him. He closes the door behind him before Pat can turn around and ask him to.

“So Ed, I’ve been thinking,” ‘Shocking’, Eddie jokes to himself in a voice that sounds a bit like Stan now that he thinks about it.

“I like what you’ve been doing here, you get along well with the other analysts and you have gotten pretty good at navigating on the computer and whatnot, how would you feel about a promotion?” Eddie instantly perked up at the words, a promotion would actually be a fucking gift right now, and damn if he hasn’t worked hard for this. All the possibilities float through his head, new sofa for the living room, hell he could even go crazy and get some new tube socks, but before his imagination can take him to the wild idea of getting some fancy neck-ties, his attention snaps back at his boss who wears a knowing and arrogant grin. 

“Yeah! Uh I, yeah that’d be great! What did you have in mind?” Pats smirk grows wider.

“You’re looking at it!” He gestures around his office in a grand wave. Eddie gulps.

“Manager? Of a branch?” Just thinking about it gets Eddie’s mouth watering. The pay raise, the office with a fucking window! And no boss like this dipshit. Of course he’d have to deal with the company’s executives, and if he’s right in his assumptions, Pat will soon be one of those execs. But they won’t be hovering around the office breathing nasty Dorito breath down his back.

“Yep!” Pat confirms, popping the P. “They are looking to put me in with the higher-ups, isn’t that grand? And I’ve recommended my favorite little anal-analyst, get it? Hah because you have that thing with germs and shit?” Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to be offended at the shit coming from this guy's dumbass mouth. He knew a real Trashmouth once, but this guy is in no way like he was. He was just your average power-hungry sleaze ball. 

“Yeah, um. So it’s for sure or was it just a recommendation?” The analyst/soon manager can’t keep his feet on the ground, bouncing in nerves and anticipation. His boss snaps his fingers at him.

“Well, I guess you’re technically still sitting on my recommendation, but I have good word that it will go through. How about that, huh? You’ll be able to buy your own printer, and your own  _ printer _ if you know what I mean.” He laughs at his own joke while Eddie pushes aside his discomfort to make way for the bubbling excitement.

“Well, that certainly is some good news, sir. Thank you for letting me know. And as for the ‘printer’, I have a girlfriend actually. That won’t be necessary.” Pat shrugs, as if to say ‘eh what can you do?’. 

“Nothing wrong with having a few printers.” What is this assholes obsession with laughing at his own jokes? They aren’t even good-bad jokes like Ri-, no, they are just  _ bad _ -bad. 

“I guess to each their own, sir. I appreciate the recommendation, keep me updated on the status of the situation if you could, but I must be going.” Eddie gets up, ready to make a hasty exit before he is stopped by a hand on his shoulder once again.

“No problem, Kaspbrak, just be sure to be on your best behavior these next few weeks. That’s important.” Before the man can get any more words out, or worse, put a hand on his other shoulder, Eddie throws a quick nod his way, and goes to gather his things before leaving the office. The whole time he can feel Mr. H’s eyes on him from the office window, catching a glimpse of a newly procured box of cookies in his hands out of the corner of his eye on the way out. 

~

“And then he pats me on the shoulder all, ‘be on your best behavior,’ okay asshole good luck being the biggest fish in the pond in the new aquarium you're headed to!” Elated after a day of good news and telling his story to an apt listener leaves his cheeks rosy, although the wine is doing it’s part as well.

“Man, he is going to get eaten up, I can’t wait.” Stan chuckles as he reaches for another slice of celebratory pizza. Eddie loves these days, where he can relax with his best friend in their apartment, and make fun of the shitty people at their shitty jobs. “But seriously, congratulations man, this is big.”

“Hell yeah it is! I should have bought some champagne, maybe even some steak!” They laugh together, bellies full of food and warm from the alcohol.

“Relax, save it for your date tomorrow. What is it, your 4th one together?” Eddie nods, ah Myra. The dates are pretty bland but she seems nice enough. A little quick and insistent to put a label on them, but otherwise a safe choice.

“Yeah. She’ll be happy to hear about this promotion, maybe she’ll start talking about my ‘husband material’ again.” Stan cringes into his wine glass.

“Eugh, why are you still going with her?” The shorter man ponders this for a bit before settling on a reasonable answer to share.

“Well she is a pretty safe choice, I mean it’s the next logical step to a normal life, right? Marry a girl, have kids…” It certainly doesn’t hurt that Myra had made it clear that sexual relations were not something she was interested in anytime soon, but Eddie kept that bit to himself. He noticed the silence coming from the other man and shot him an inquiring eyebrow raise.

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, Eddie. Sometimes your normal can be different from what someone else’s is, and that’s okay. You don’t have to strive for normalcy, especially when it means you won’t be happy.” Eddie goes to interrupt but Stan beats him to it. “Tell me this will honestly make you happy. Then I’ll leave it be.” One second. Two, five, ten pass. Eddie hangs his head in defeat, unable to respond, (lie), to the man next to him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Just think about it, okay? I’m going to bed, you should too if you wanna get there early to finish up your work.” And just like that, he was alone in their tiny living room, left to his own thoughts and the mess they made, damnit Stan.

Stan and his stupid smart words. He’s wrong about this, he has to be. Because Eddie wants to be normal, and that should make him happy. If not, then what was the fucking point of any of it?

~

By some miracle, Eddie makes it through the next day at work. He begrudgingly makes it there early like he planned to and finishes what he needs to do, before sitting back down at his desk. Eddie spends the rest of the work day anxiously looking toward Mr. H’s office every five minutes, even though he knows it’s way too soon to have any sort of news at all. It’s a nervous tick he can’t stop, much like the application of hand sanitizer he does every hour. 

When the clock finally hits 5:00, he’s already up and out of his seat before anyone can stop him for small talk. It’s happened before unfortunately.

He is always eager to ditch the office and embrace the comfort of his own home, but he is particularly antsy today and wants to get home and have time to stress clean the kitchen cabinets. He’s been saving those cabinets for a special occasion with anxiety levels like this, because cleaning always gets his mind off things. A distraction sounds perfect at the moment and damn did those cabinets need to be cleaned. 

After that he needs to get ready to meet Myra at her apartment at 7:30. Even the time they set their dates at is boring and predictable, Eddie couldn’t be happier. Well... Actually he won’t finish that thought.

After a much needed cleaning frenzy, in which he receives many judgmental glances from Stan, he puts away his cleaning supplies and notices the time. 6:30, right on schedule, plenty of time to straighten up and choose an outfit. He always gives himself time to mix and match and go through his options, even though he knows he will always end up picking the same combination of a polo and slacks. He has a few colorful button-ups, mostly joke-gifts from Stan, but they make his heart heavy when he looks at them. They stay hanging up in his closet even after all the complaining he does about questionable fashion choices and wasted space. He doesn’t have the will to throw them out. 

Today's date night flavor is a pale blue polo tucked into some beige slacks and some brown shoes he can’t remember the name of and Stan is always scolding him for forgetting it. Whatever.

He gets the usual, “Have a nice night!” from Stan, waving a quick goodbye to the man on the couch with a book in his lap, and then he’s off.

Myra doesn’t live too far from their apartment, which is convenient for him but also very much inconvenient as well. Convenient because times like these are easy, he takes a 10 minute walk and he’s there, no fuss or anything like that. It’s inconvenient because Myra has already started to plan out the next few months because of it. ‘Oh well if the weather's bad, it’s not too far away, you’ll be able to get here, won’t you Eddie?’ And isn’t that just a can of worms on its own.

Despite what Stan, and sometimes what he himself thinks, Myra isn’t all that bad. Her apartment is clean, it always smells nice, and the woman can cook. She’s nice enough and Eddie thinks she might be the option he will be able to regret the least, and that’s good enough for him. He only lets himself hesitate a few minutes when he reaches her door this time.

“Eddie-bear! There you are, come in, let me see your jacket, have a seat and relax!” He’s greeted with a barrage of sickly sweet perfume and hands grasping at his clothing as soon as the door opens to Myra's apartment. Her blonde hair pulled up tight to her scalp in a ponytail, makeup minimal but visibly present, nails clean and manicured on her chubby fingers.

Then there’s the uncanny resemblance to his mother he can’t even try to deny. Down to the nickname. He hides a gag by faking a cough, which still garners him a concerned glance.

“Hello Myra, how are you?” He manages to get out, and they exchange their basic pleasantries. So she might look a bit like his mom, and act a bit like his mom, but it’s not too much so he isn’t worried. Besides he hasn’t been in contact with his mother since he left Derry after graduation. Despite her undeniable and unsavory characteristics, his reasoning boils down to three basic things.

  1. She’s normal. (Normal is safe)
  2. She actually seems to like him, or is willing to pretend she does, a courtesy he’s not sure he will just stumble across again.
  3. She’s a woman. (But he’s not ready to talk about the importance of this one yet)



He will probably marry her one day and live a bland uneventful, unhappy life. He won’t be hurting anyone, he will be doing exactly what he should be doing, and that’s what counts. He’s good at it. Even believes he can find some content in this lifestyle after a while. Especially in the dinners she cooks for him.

“Something smells good.” He offers to the room after Myra busies herself back in the kitchen, only after doting on her boyfriend a bit and making sure he is settled on the recliner.

“Hmm? Oh yes that is just the broth. Just you wait Eddie-bear, I’m really aiming to cook a meal fit for a queen tonight.” Is this for some special occasion he isn’t aware of? Or did Myra somehow find out about his promotion? There’s no way, he only told Stan, and Stan and Eddie are each other’s only friends, other than some acquaintances at their respective workplaces. 

“What’s the occasion?” He wonders aloud. He can still hear the bustling about in the kitchen, pots and pans banging, the sound of a knife against the cutting board.

“What? Oh nothing I was just feeling hungry for something. It’s actually one of my favorites, a recipe passed down for generations. You’ll love it.” Eddie just hums in response as he flipped the tv on to watch while he waited. He settles on the news. “I wanted to wait a bit before we tried it, but plans change, something goes wrong and you just have to make do with what you can.” When she speaks, he only half listens, nodding in response even though she can’t see him. 

He was lost in thought for a while, mindlessly gazing at the tv as the newscaster delivers weather reports for the upcoming weekend, when someone knocks on the door.

“Myra, there’s someone at the door!” He raises his voice so he could be heard over what he assumes is the faucet running. 

“I’ll be right there, don’t worry about it.”

Eddie just grunts in reply, zoning back into the news without missing a beat. Probably some girl selling cookies or something. Eddie rolls his eyes at the thought of having to hear Myra rant about the corrupt business of girl scout cookies over dinner. At least he can just sit back and tune her out while she goes off, not allowing any room for his input anyway. God he just wants to go home, maybe tell Stan about the beanie baby collection he suspects Myra has.

The mentioned woman emerges from the kitchen, dusting her hands on her apron before hanging it up on a wall near the kitchen entrance and making her way to the front door.

Eddie relaxes back into the cushions of the recliner and flips through some more channels on the tv. Another plus of this ordeal, this chair is  _ heavenly _ on his sore muscles. Stretching and reaching to clean those cabinets took more of a toll on him than he thought it would. He pushes down the voice in his head that makes a joke about his height.

_Aw is Spaghetti sad that he’s just a ‘wittle_ _macaroni after all?_

  
  


It’s a few minutes later before Myra huffs and storms back into the kitchen after closing the door on what he is assuming to be a bad interaction at the door. He might have been distracted, but he thinks he might have heard raised voices and a door shut a little too hard.

“Everything okay, Myra?” He asks.

“Oh it’s nothing Eddie, actually I’m about finished in here, so you can go ahead and come in and take a seat at the dinner table.” She speaks quickly, complexion a bit flustered. He tries to brush off her anxious demeanor, but it just doesn’t sit right with him. 

Eddie gets up, switching the tv off before he exits the room, sitting down as instructed at the aforementioned table. It isn’t two seconds later that a glass is being filled in front of him. He catches a glimpse at the bottle, eyes widened.

“Liquor?” He questioned, eyes directed at the woman now sat opposite of him, pouring a glass of her own. She taps her glossy fingernails on the glass, and huh, it seems she is growing out her nails longer than usual. He always thought she was the kind of girl that was against long nails because they were, ‘unhygienic’. Eddie has no room to talk though, his nails always clean and clipped. 

“Yes, I don’t see a problem with it, why should you?” She eyed him, almost challengingly until he took a sip. He wasn’t really a whiskey man himself, but he wasn’t one to turn it down either. Still a bit apprehensive, he pushes on.

“You sure there’s no special occasion, right? This is still kind of new, if I forgot a birthday you should let me know.” He grabs himself a dinner roll, spreading his preferred amount of butter before taking a bite. Man he really was hungry, but the main dish is still yet to appear on the table next to the rolls and pot of an assortment of cooked vegetables. 

“Why are you so nosy today, Edward? I wanted to do something nice for my boyfriend, that’s all. Any more questions?” The brunette shifts a bit in discomfort at the inpatient tone before looking away and breaking the icy eye contact he held with the woman sitting with him. Okay, a little strange. Eddie thinks he definitely missed a birthday or something along those lines to warrant this treatment.

“No, no, I was just wondering, is all. So uh, what’s for dinner?” He chances the innocent question, already weary and regretting it when he notices the glare emerging on her face. Apparently this was the last straw for her, any reasoning why is beyond Eddie at this point.

“It’s a surprise! How hard can it be to understand a surprise?” Eddie jumps back in his seat a little in shock at the sudden screaming outburst from his girlfriend.

“Sorry! No, I-I’m sorry, don’t be upset, please!”

There are many things in this world that Eddie hates. Monsters take the win by a long shot, being the source of almost everything that went wrong in his life. Some honorable mentions include his boss, his job, the ice that takes over the steps of his apartment building in the winter, the neighbor across the hall that doesn’t understand the meaning of the word quiet, and well, most of the rest are about himself. The point is, it’s a long list. But whenever his mother got upset, well that had a special place locked up in his mind next to all the other childhood traumas he kept buried deep inside him. He didn’t think he would have this problem with his girlfriend, but Myra wasn’t instilling too much confidence in him at this point. To his surprise, she rolled her eyes at him after he spoke. So far no crocodile tears or blubbering accusations thrown his way. Shit maybe he will make it through this alive after all. 

“Yeah okay, dear. Whatever, let’s just move on already. Have you had a shower today? Oh I just know my Edward showered before he came today, all clean! I knew I could count on you not to mess this up, and look at that, you’ve drunk your entire glass, that’s great! Oh I’ve been waiting for this since I found you, all clean and pure and obedient.” She exclaims triumphantly, words coming out faster as she works herself up even more, pointing at Eddie.

“Uh, What?” Okay, now he was seriously lost. 

“I’m sorry, I usually like to drag this out longer, it really adds to the flavor, but we’ve got an unexpected time crunch, so I had to make due with the whiskey. But of course I chose right, you’re all ready to go! I like ‘em clean and fresh, it’s almost like you're organic.” Myra’s previous pout shifting into a dark grin, and that’s when the fear curls itself low in his gut. His eyes widen further when he notices the hand gripping the table on her side. Her nails are even longer than before, in fact they are  _ growing _ . Claws take over her little hands, and bright and discolored eyes are predatorily raking over the now trembling man's form. “And you understand the importance of a healthy diet, now don’t you, Eddie-Bear.” 

Oh Shit.

“Oh Shit.” Myra smiles a wicked smile full of fangs.

“You’re a fucking monster.”

And that’s when everything goes to shit.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much happens this chapter unfortunately, but I still enjoyed writing it and I hope you still enjoyed reading it! Next chapter will include some action, and yes some other losers as well. I would love some feedback if you could leave some! See you soon, and knowing me that could probably be much sooner than you think. Have a lovely day! I'll leave my twitter again just in case.  
> @SoulSpooks


	3. Chapter Two: The Murder of Myra's Mahogany

It had been years since Eddie last used his inhaler. He knew he never needed it, and that it wasn’t even filled with the correct medication that one would find in an actual inhaler. It was a placebo. And if it wasn’t for Richie being there for him the night he found out, he might not have thrown it into the water below where they stood on the cliff overlooking the Quarry. It was one of the few times Richie was serious with him, not a single mom or dick joke left his mouth. He was there for him in exactly the way he needed, patient and caring towards a hysterical Eddie fresh from a fight with his mother. He made Eddie feel brave, so he threw it off that bridge in a rage, with a whoop from Richie next to him. Eddie hadn’t even considered his inhaler since they left that town for good.

Right now though? Eddie can’t breathe, and for real this time. Whether it was from a panic attack or his anxiety disorder that any person to ever have met him could diagnose him with, he didn’t know. All he can understand is that he needed to breathe, and an inhaler is what helps you breathe. It’s almost like the fear he felt in the moment took him back to the first time he faced a monster, when the knowledge that nightmares are very much real and are living and breathing in the world around you was slammed into the mind of seven young children. 

The claws, the fangs, the bright eyes. They took him back to Pennywise.

“What the fuck! What- You-” Eddie tries and fails to wheeze through the words. The beast that he formerly thought of as his boring,  _ harmless _ girlfriend, laughs and stands up from the dining room chair. Eddie jumps up from his seated position as well, not about to give her any more leverage than she already has.

“Oh, Eddie-bear! Why don’t you just calm down and take your seat again? I promise I’ll be gentle, this will go a lot better for you if you just listen to me.” When she finishes speaking she slowly takes a step forward, letting a single nail to scrape along the table as she does so. The object of her hungry gaze flails, grabbing the chair he had occupied and pushing in front of him as some kind of defense. Myra just tsks at him. 

“Don’t be difficult Edward, you are supposed to be an obedient little bitch, another reason I was drawn to you, why don’t you act like it. No need to pretend in front of me. Just be yourself.” The last three words are each punctuated with a slow step towards him, and in turn he takes three steps away, like two positive ends of a magnet pushing away at each other. He can’t even pause to acknowledge what she is saying, mind racing with incomprehensible thoughts darting from ‘What the fuck?!’ to ‘What do I do?’ and ‘Help!’. Mostly the first one. 

Myra keeps creeping towards him, each step forward is leveled with another step back, the two slowly rounding the table. The fanged woman growls in annoyance, but is yet to pounce. Eddie thanks his lucky stars for these extra few seconds to think, but he can’t help but wonder why he isn’t a smear of guts and ripped clothing on the carpet already. Based on what little he has absorbed of the situation, she seems very impatient, and has been so for quite a while now. He chances a quick glance over her shoulder, and sees the front door behind her. One thing is obvious, he needs to get the hell out of here before this rabid version of Mrs. Buttersworth sinks her teeth into his jugular.

The front door is the only viable exit, unless he wants to complete the narrative and flatten into a gruesome pancake by jumping out of the 5th story window. So no, he decides the front door is his best option. God Stan would make so much fun of him right now if he knew what Eddie was thinking right now. ‘What are you, Indiana Jones?’ However a plan is better than not having one at all, so let Stan make fun of him all he wants when he makes it back to their small New York City apartment in one piece.

Okay, so in theory it should be simple. Keep up their little game of chase a little longer to move around the table until the front door is at his back, flip said table onto his now  _ ex _ -girlfriend, (he thinks that is pretty clear by now), and flee while she is struck by surprise at the sudden weight of mahogany on her. Easy. But first he has to keep her occupied long enough so he can even reach the right position. 

“Why are you doing this, Myra? Come on, you know you can just let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” He grimaces at the unsteadiness he can clearly detect in his own voice, but he succeeds in pulling her into conversation as she continues around the table, Eddie moving in tandem with her. 

“Let you go? Now why would I waste a perfectly good meal, hmm? I can already tell the fear that's filling up your yummy little body will be  _ delicious. _ ” Eddie stumbles a little, her tongue coming out to swipe across her fangs, drool spilling there. “I’m so excited, Eddie. You’ll go so well in the stew, your brain is sure to be so ripe with fear, and so tender with all the over-thinking I know you do. I’ve been waiting to just eat you right up since I first laid my eyes on you.” He gulps, pulse impossibly quickening at her words as she moves a bit faster around the table. He is almost in position, and oh god, he doesn’t know if he can do it. There is no room for doubt right now, he has to push through it.

“What are you?” He doesn’t remember seeing something quite like her before, and he just needs to buy himself just a few more seconds. He is almost there, so close to making it. He isn’t ready, it's too soon, he doesn’t want to die. Especially knowing he will just go on the hips of the vicious woman before him. Maybe she’ll have to get all new jeans, there’s at least a little solace he can find in that. 

“What am I, Eddie-bear? Oh I'll tell you. I am  _ hungry! _ ” They both take this moment as the peak of the evening, each preparing to jump into action. Myra gears up to leap over the table, knees bent and left leg just a bit behind the right. And he realizes he’s in position, Myra across from him with the width of the table between them, the exit right behind him.

Eddie almost doesn’t even think, his body working on auto-pilot. Before he can chicken out, he sees his arms move from his body and use all their strength to flip the table over onto the angry creature before him. It certainly shocks her, and to his disappointment, it doesn’t seem to affect her as much as he hoped it would. She was  _ strong.  _ Still, he wastes no time in dashing toward behind him, ignoring the loud crash from behind him that he assumes is the table being thrown into the china cabinet. 

“Get back here, you little shit!” She sounds absolutely livid, and Eddie is not keen on staying around to see just how pissed she is.

“Ahhhhh!” That is his dignified response.

Eddie could cry with relief when he finally reaches the front door, and actually he might already be crying, but that doesn’t matter because he just needs to get through this door, right? After that it’s pretty simple, outrun the thing behind him and then he’s home free. He manages to get the door unlocked, but before he can open the door all the way and take off to god knows where at this point, a force pulls him back. He cries out in pain when his already tender arm is gripped by a strong claw, nails digging into his skin. Myra’s face comes into view, red and hostile, as she shoves him into the wall.

“Stupid fucking idiot! That table was an antique! Oh I am going to enjoy ripping you up, you just had to run didn’t you?” Her other claw reaches up towards his head, fitting his skull into her grasp. “Let’s see how hard I have to squeeze until you POP!” 

If she says anything after that, Eddie can’t hear it over the rushing blood in his ears and the terrible screams filling the room. Oh wait, that might actually be  _ him _ screaming. True to her word, she tightens her hold on his skull and squeezes, unrelenting in her endeavor to get to his brain. The pain is fucking terrible and he can’t focus on anything else. No last thought, or regrets, no room for prayers to a God he has long since lost hope in believing in. Just a resigned acceptance that this was it, the end of Edward Kaspbrak’s life. The very thing he fled from out of desperate fear, was to be the cause of his pathetic and inevitable end.

For a wonderful moment it is almost like the pressure stops. The pain in his skull and arm throbs lowly, but no longer a present concern. Just existing in the back of his awareness.

Oh. He must be dead. He isn’t aware of much else other than that the claws and the pain they pressed into his body have faded away. There are not any promising signs to indicate the opposite so this must be it. And from the look he saw in Myra’s, or whatever that thing was, eyes, it was clear she was not going to stop until his brain and spinal fluid coated her pastel lavender walls. So he had to be dead. Hmm, he ponders that for a second, oddly calm or just in denial at first.

Death was different than he thought it would be. Whenever he allowed himself to think about the afterlife, he imagined a peaceful place, where you could feel no more pain. He even indulged in picturing doves and golden gates and people with big fluffy wings walking around and shit, probably playing harps or kissing babies.

So far, Eddie’s experience was going nothing like what he had imagined. First of all, it was loud as fuck. Various noises infiltrated his ears, booms and screams alike. And the No More Pain thing was bullshit, because his arm and head were  _ killing _ him. And there wasn’t anything else, just darkness. Loud, painful, and dark. ‘Better place’ his ass.

“You sloppy bitch motherfucker, you want some brains? Oh I’ll show you some brain, hang ‘em up all nice and pretty for you while I stomp on your bitch-ass head!”

Wait, what? What kind of afterlife is this, anyway? 

“Richie, can you stop running your mouth and just stab the thing already?”

_ Richie? _

Oh god. He is in hell.

“Can do Haystack, why don’t you go check on the poor dude drooling on the carpet over there, he looks brain-dead.” That voice, of course he knows that voice. He tries to look around, but he can still only see darkness. Oh god, the brain-squeeze blinded him! He’s blind, he won’t be able to walk to his favorite tea place anymore, unless he gets some kind of seeing eye dog, which, he  _ hates  _ dogs and- Oh. His eyes were just closed. 

When he finally manages to open his eyes, because even if he wasn’t blinded, extreme pressure to your skull is going to affect your body a little bit. And he might have still been a little drunk from the whiskey. Looking back on it, and how loopy he feels, he has some strong suspicions that there was a little bit of an extra something in his drink. Ugh, fucking Myra, he’s never going on a blind date at the recommendation of a coworker ever again. Speaking of the woman/beast/whatever, the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is a piece of the broken table being driven straight through her chest, killing her and rendering her an unmoving blob of floral printed cloth and red stains. Huh. Nope, he can’t even force himself to be upset to see her go, good fucking riddance.

The second thing he sees is the man that had done the actual deed. Unceremoniously dropping the offending item used to perform said deed, he wipes his bloody hands on his pants. Gross.

His shoulders are wide, broad chest, muscular enough that it’s not hard to put together that this isn’t the first time he has done this. Fit in a way you either get to flex on a beach and tv, or because you need to be strong and what you do for a living has required you to have a little muscle. Eddie suspects the second. His dark hair is wild and catches in the frames on his face, which he shoves further up the bridge of his nose with the hand previously coated in Eddie’s ex-girlfriends blood. Fucking  _ gross.  _

But that’s Richie. Always gross, but always captivating in Eddie’s eyes. 

Holy fuck.

That’s Richie! Oh god, he can’t deal with this right now. He just died, give him a second to catch up. He knows the adrenaline is keeping the more unsavory emotions at bay from seeing this man, and he is frankly not ready for the crippling onslaught of feeling when he comes down.

“Hey, it’s okay bud, everything is okay, you’re safe now.” Eddie turns his attention from Richie’s turned away form to another man he now realizes is kneeling next to him. Haystack.  _ Ben _ . Eddie pointedly doesn’t let himself focus on Ben’s startlingly different and now equally muscular body, he will deal with that later, because holy fuck.

Holy fuck, Ben and Richie just killed his girlfriend. 

Ben seems to recognize that the other man is still having some trouble, so he offers Eddie his hand to help him up. He doesn’t seem to recognize Eddie just yet, and he can’t blame him. Without the drop of Richie’s name, he wouldn’t have thought this was Ben at all. But that was definitely Richie, and who else would he call Haystack. He might have been able to recognize Rich, despite the few changes in his own appearance. Well, his lanky form had clearly filled out, and he might have gained a few more inches in height, the fucker. He was overall just more  _ man.  _ But Eddie often dreamed of that mop of hair, those blue eyes behind thick-lensed glasses, that  _ voice _ . So yeah, he knew exactly who that was. 

And there it is. The dread, the guilt, the  _ fear.  _ Burning hot through his veins before sinking into a cold and heavy stone in his chest and stomach. God, why has fear had to rule his life so extensively? 

“Fuck, fucking shit.” Eddie mumbles, staggering in place trying to keep his balance, before Ben places a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

“Easy there, buddy. Do you need a hospital?” Eddie knows he’s just trying to help, just doing his job, but forgive him for not wanting to put on a friendly facade at the moment. He brushes off the hand on his shoulder before telling the other man a quick, ‘Fuck off, I’m fine.’, always quick to anger and frustration when confronted with difficult feelings.

Well he knew he didn’t need any immediate medical attention so physically, yes, he was fine. Mentally? He can only connect screams and temperatures and speeds to a description of the way his mind was working at the moment.

Looking around for any distraction to relieve him of himself, he finally notices the state the apartment is in. It looks like a bomb went off in there, chairs and furniture thrown across the room, not to mention the seeping corpse on the living room rug. There is carnage, but no Richie to be seen. He hears the kitchen sink running from the other room though, and figures the other man is just finally washing his hands. And when he is done, he will walk back out here, prepared to give the victim he just saved a speech on the existence of monsters. It’s a process he is all too familiar with, having sat down and helped decide what they would say back in the beginning. He wonders if it’s evolved from the simple, “Monsters are real, that sucks, but you’re alive! Call us if you almost die again!” 

His internal freakout is cut short by Ben, who was still beside him during all this mental processing, and probably thinks he is freaking out about the fact that there is a dead body in the room that had claws and fangs and was probably not human. Based on the fact that Eddie is technically still a stranger they just saved from a-, actually he’s not sure what Myra was, that is a rather fair assessment on Ben’s part.

“I know you are probably going through a lot, sir, but don’t worry, everything is going to be alright. We will explain everything soon.” Eddie snorts, and chuckles a bit more at the surprised expression that Ben displays over the action. Then he feels bad, because Ben was trying to be nice to him. The stone grows bigger and sinks even deeper in his soul. He won’t be treating him kindly for long, not after he realizes who they just saved.

“Thanks, but really. I’m okay. I really appreciate the help.” Eddie does what he can to give the other man a smile, but it must come off as more of a grimace, because Ben’s face just grows more concerned. Goddamnit it, Eddie doesn’t deserve the worry Ben displays so openly over him. He doesn’t know what he is gonna do if- _ when,  _ they find out. His apologies mean nothing, he shouldn’t even be given the chance to explain himself. Eddie just left them, and he took Stan with him. Deep down Eddie knows if he hadn’t gone, Stan would have never left on his own. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? It wasn’t a very pretty scene we walked into, you can’t have escaped that unharmed.” Ben raises his hand again, maybe to put it back onto Eddie’s shoulder, but wisely thinks better of it and backs off a little.

“Well my arm aches something scary, and I can already feel a fucking terrible headache coming, but other than that, I should be okay.” Eddie reassures him, relaxing when Ben seems to do the same. Eddie suddenly realizes that Richie is still yet to reappear and the sink is no longer running. Before he can help it, the worry cuts through him quickly and he has to say something.

“Is R- is your friend okay? He has been gone for a while.” As he says it, he almost jerks back in shock at the fumble of words that almost gave him away, but manages to save himself and it goes unnoticed.. Does it even matter, though? The probability that he will be able to escape this situation without them figuring out who is very low. He tells himself the sliver of warmth in his chest isn’t hope and excitement when it shoots across his skin for a split second.

“Oh I am sure he’s fine. Rich? All good in there?” Body betraying him, his heart starts to beat faster when he hears a mumbled affirmation near the doorway to the kitchen. Richie was about to walk through those doors, and without a monster to focus on, he will look at Eddie and he will see right through him. If he doesn’t, well, he can’t even try to lie to himself at this point, he will be devastated. Richie always knew him best. And even though Eddie is the one that left, he still got his heart broken in doing so, still wished that they could hold the places they had in each other's hearts forever. Even though Richie didn’t quite feel the same and held Eddie in a different place than Eddie had him. They were still best friends, still  _ RichieandEddie _ , a term coined by the losers that never failed to put a blush on his face knowing the others had just accepted the two as a pair. And Eddie would always guiltily indulge in it, because to him Richie was just so-

“I’m aw’ goo’ Ben!” Voice carrying through the rooms, Richie came in, mouth stuffed with the dinner rolls that were on the dinner table. The table that Eddie had upturned. That was thrown across the room. Shattered and turned into a murder weapon. Meaning those rolls, they came from the floor. 

Fuck that dude, what the fuck? Eddie was appalled. That Disgusting Motherfucker. Later he would probably scold himself for what he did next, but at this point he was just so raw inside after everything that has happened, leaving his resolve weak. He couldn’t have stopped his mouth running even if he tried.

“Are you serious? What, you don’t know what chewing is? It’s not a difficult concept. And don’t you know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full? God! Especially in this situation! You just walked in, killed my girlfriend, and started eating her dinner rolls? Her corpse is literally five feet in front of you!”

“You’re dating that?” Eddie could tell Richie didn’t mean to let out the quip when he flinched in disbelief at the words leaving him, probably beginning to realize what was going on. That didn’t stop Eddie, though.

“I  _ was _ until she turned into a monster and you stabbed her to death! But that’s besides the point! I  _ flipped _ that table, yes the one in the kitchen, the one that those dinner rolls sitting on, before they were on the fucking floor! _ The floor! _ Do you have any idea the amount of bacteria that lives on the kitchen floor? Not to mention at a crime scene! I don’t care if you were the hungriest motherfucker on the planet, in what world is it a valid option to eat food from the floor after you had just killed the one who made it,  _ food  _ that had been cooked with the specific purpose of served with  _ a human brain _ .” Eddie is heaving by the end of his rant, two pairs of eyes trained on him. One gaze filled with dawning recognition and the other with just blatant confusion and downright disbelief. Poor Ben. 

His eyes found Richie’s, feeling vulnerable, and relieved, and ashamed, and god so many emotions shooting through him when Richie looks at him.

Then everything inside him shatters.

“Hey Eds.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm sorry! There is actually no real interactions yet, but I promise there will be next chapter. I'm grateful to everyone who has read this so far, and left kudos or subscribed. This story means a lot to me and I am doing my best to make it enjoyable to read. Can't wait to finish the next chapter, I'll see you then!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a twitter that I use for clowntown and if this doesn’t flop I’ll be more active on it bc I’m shy.  
> @SoulSpooks  
> I’m really excited to write this y’all, if I had to take a guess based off what I am doing now, I’d say it will be around 15ish chapters at about 3,000-4,000 words each. This could absolutely change in either direction. Please consider I am a working college student in the middle of Covid-19, but I will do my best to update at least once a week, and feel free to leave any comments, and definitely leave a kudos they make me happy.


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